Coincidence
by Marionecto
Summary: [MOVIEVERSE] Enoch has a sick day and Olive spends the whole day taking care of him. In the end, both don't want to let go of each other. [Enoch x Olive fluff] [republished because something went wrong;;]


The first thing she could see was the gray, sad sky upon her. And smoke, a lot of smoke, and she couldn't tell where it came from. Coughing, she ran deeper into the woods, trying to find shelter from the deadly air she was forced to inhale. She stopped for a moment, watching as everything she had stepped and touched on was caught on flames – leaves, branches, trees. The fire surrounded her, and she knew it wouldn't cease. The horizon had disappeared behind the hell she saw herself in, and she couldn't see anything else but the flames consuming everything she had seen, be it life or simply the scenery. It looked like her peculiarity had turned against her.

Then, she saw _him_.

He stood there, in front of her, glaring at her, disapproval written all over his face. She thought it was time for relief, but she was wrong, terribly wrong. In a sudden, she couldn't move her legs, stretching her arm to reach him, to no avail. Flames danced behind him, about to engulf the boy. She tried warning him, but her voice wouldn't come out. Enoch raised an eyebrow at her helpless figure and walked away, fire swallowing him, taking him out of her sight.

Olive woke up, and her eyes shot open, horror and panic on her pale, sickly face. She kicked her white bed sheets to the edges of her bed, afraid of touching anything with her hand. The pyromancer sat down and stopped one or two tears from falling on her round chin. What the hell was that about?

Her body tilted to the left, and she found courage to touch a candle with her shaky fingers. A small flame danced on it, bringing light to the room, terrifying her at the same time. The red headed girl turned around, not wanting to see the source of the light. Dreams – no, nightmares – like that were new to her.

She quickly took her gloves and covered her hands with them, promising to herself she wouldn't remove them until she was sure it wasn't a prophetic dream. Olive was terribly afraid she wouldn't be able to control her peculiarity. What if she set fire to the other children?

The pyromancer wished someone could feel it when she was unwell – apparently, she didn't scream. If she did, then Miss Peregrine would have barged into the room in a question of seconds. However, it wasn't Alma Peregrine the girl wanted to be saved by.

It was Enoch.

Olive sighed. There was no way he'd come running for her. The necromancer had his own problems, and he definitely didn't make it clear that she was relevant to him. Of course, there were some episodes of jealousy, but it was nothing but a suspicion. It indeed was weird that Enoch would try to always have her around, and sometimes even insist that she 'couldn't' go anywhere else, but was there really any meaning behind it?

The red-haired girl wanted to act fiercely and look firm, but these nightmares would always surprise her, no matter what. Her desperation was probably ridiculous in her friend's eyes… Or that was what she thought, at least.

The pyromancer closed her eyes, but instead of not seeing anything, she saw the scenes from the nightmare repeat themselves repeatedly. She saw the smoke and the flames burning everything around her, suffocating her. She saw the sky being taken by smoke and dark clouds, the fire burning even the tallest trees, ashes falling to the ground.

She saw Enoch leaving.

That was the part she hated the most. Olive opened her eyes quickly, trying not to see the scene again, but it was too late. She couldn't take the sight, tears falling automatically, without any effort. The girl turned her head to see the candle illuminating the dark room. She wondered if he was awake. She wondered if he had nightmares as scary as hers. She wondered if he would leave her.

Her vision became blurry quickly, and her gloved hands rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of any evidence that could lead to the others finding out she had cried. Her eyes stopped on the ceiling, looking to the emptiness, as if her life had been sucked away from her body. She'd never felt more helpless – it was probably good to be Enoch. He was never helpless nor lonely, or at least didn't seem to be. A sudden thought hit the pyromancer: what if he didn't need her?

Olive got up, walking slowly. She blew on the candle and walked to the door with heavy steps. She wanted to check if her friend was awake – maybe she could ask him about his point of view. There was a certain fear of what would be said, but it wasn't time to hesitate.

The red headed girl left her bedroom carefully, knowing the Bird could hear almost anything. Since the necromancer's room was right next to hers, it was a short trip. She noticed the lack of light in the hallway, indicating that none of their rooms had their lights on. It saddened her, who had stopped right in front of his door. _He's having a good night. He couldn't care less about me._

She made her way back to her room, her head low.

o o o o

After hours of tossing and turning on her bed, her mind taken over by desperation and phobias, Olive noticed it was dawn. Alma Peregrine had set the habit of making breakfast early in the morning, making everyone wake up early naturally. She didn't feel the need to knock in each child's door and wake them up.

The pyromancer looked through a small mirror in her bedroom, lying on her nightstand, noticing how puffy and red her eyes were, due to the nightmare she had the night before. She washed her face, hoping it'd just come back to normal. It wasn't a perfect disguise, but her swollen eyes wouldn't be the first thing everyone would notice on her face, in the dining room.

She walked through her room, going through the same path over and over again. Olive couldn't just look well – she had to feel well too. Maybe it was a scar that'd heal quickly, she didn't know. She kept on muttering about how it didn't mean anything and it probably wasn't a prophetic dream. What she had imagined would never happen. At least that was what she wanted to believe in.

The red-haired girl sat down on the edge of her bed and brushed her hair slowly, trying to distract herself from her negative thoughts. She thought of everything she found beautiful, and sceneries that'd fill her with joy. A sunny day, the other children playing outside, Olive assisting Enoch with his creations, listening to kind and calming words from him while he complimented her tea more than once. Enoch giving her a flower. Enoch complimenting her in more things than her tea. Enoch.

She smiled, knowing he'd always be the grumpy and selfish peculiar she'd seen every day. Imagining him doing all that was funny, because the pyromancer knew she probably wouldn't be alive to see it.

It was going to be a perfect day, that was what she wanted to believe in.

She left her room and walked to the stairs, noticing all the bedrooms had their doors open, except for Enoch's. He never closed or locked his door to go eat breakfast, noting that the other children definitely weren't interested in checking his room out. Hell, they were even scared of it. The doll heads hanging on one of the walls didn't help one bit, too.

Olive stood in front of the stairs, lingering there for a bit too long. After some thinking, she decided to not bother herself with him and the nightmare anymore.

When she got downstairs and walked to the dining room, all the children in it, she knew something was wrong. Enoch didn't wake up…?

"Oh, Ms. Elephanta," Miss Peregrine called, walking to her. "Were you with Enoch? He's the only one who hasn't showed up this morning."

The pyromancer tried avoiding the subject, making up an excuse.

"Miss Peregrine-"

"Could you please check on him? You're probably the only one he accepts visits from without any hesitation."

The Bird winked at her, smoking on her pipe. Then, she turned around and started trying to make the others behave, leaving Olive dumbfounded at the entrance of the room.

There was something wrong with her friend. She hurried downstairs, not really wanting to see his face, but at the same time worried about him. After all, he'd barely get any sleep, so he was one of the first people to be awake in the morning. She stopped at his door, knocking on it lightly.

"Enoch? Are you okay?"

She couldn't forget about the nightmare, fearing something bad had happened to him. The red headed girl knocked on his door again, this time faster.

There was no response from the other side. Not a sound, an angry mumbling, nothing. Olive put her hand on the doorknob, wondering if he had locked the door or not. The door opened with a creak, revealing the necromancer's empty workspace. She looked around, finally spotting his bed, seeing him covered in white bed sheets, eyes closed.

The pyromancer closed the door behind her and knelt in front of the bed, checking on his breath, relieved when she understood he was alive.

"…I'm awake, you know."

The words, spoken with a very husky voice, made her jump, but she soon returned to her original position.

"Enoch, are you okay?" she asked, worry on her voice. Olive removed one glove and put her bare hand on his forehead, knowing she wouldn't set her friend on fire. His forehead was ice cold, as cold as a corpse, surprising the girl.

"What are you doing here, again?" he replied moodily, not moving one inch.

"You're the only one who hasn't showed up at all today," she explained, her hand still on his forehead, trying to warm it up a little. "And you look terrible. I can't just leave you like this."

"Yes, you can" Enoch frowned at the heat her hand was releasing on him. "I never asked you to do anything for me."

"Well, you wouldn't ask. You can barely move, Enoch."

She began to notice how bad he looked. Cold skin, dark circles, messy hair and some sweat. Was he sick?

Then, suddenly, both of his hands held the hand touching his forehead, as if telling her not to leave. He was almost crushing it. Finally, he opened his eyes, puffy and red just like hers. The boy raised an eyebrow at her sight.

"Heck, you look terrible."

Olive sighed at his rude remark, not knowing why the hell she was so afraid of losing him.

"Well, same to you, Enoch. The difference is that you're definitely not okay."

"It's just a cold."

The pyromancer stood up, ignoring his obvious lie. She had a mission, and the mission was to tell the Bird the reason Enoch hadn't showed up to breakfast. She was about to walk away.

"I'll call Miss Peregrine and tell her you-"

But the necromancer's tight hold on her hand stopped her. It wasn't long before he also held her wrist. Her eyes widened for a moment, but she was used to the boy scaring her like that.

"Don't."

"But, Enoch…"

"Just don't."

She knelt in front of his bed, almost falling due to Enoch pulling her arm. It was very hard to defeat him in discussions. Olive sighed, not knowing what to do next. For a moment, she didn't feel bad about seeing him, even after that nightmare.

"Well… What should I do then, Enoch?" she tilted her head, trying to make her friend come up with an idea.

"Nothing. I'll be fine" he replied, even though his sickly face showed her the exact opposite. "You can even leave if you want."

The pyromancer stared at the hands holding her wrist like if his life depended on her, and raised her eyebrows. That boy really had problems expressing himself.

"…I'll take a chair" Olive smiled, trying to make Enoch let go of her arm. It had begun to hurt. "That one, in the corner. I'm not leaving, Enoch."

Her smile seemed to have melted her friend. The necromancer let her go with a scowl and a grunt, growing suspicious of her actions. When he saw that she'd kept her word, setting a chair in front of his bed, he growled, defeated.

"See? There's no way I'm going to leave you like that."

The red-haired girl put the back of her hand on his forehead again, trying to check his temperature. She removed it quickly, still afraid she wouldn't be able to control her peculiarity. Then, she stood up and looked around.

"I'll be back in a second, Enoch. I just need to get some things to help you."

And again, his fingers trapped hers, just not as strongly as before.

"Promise?"

"Yes, Enoch. You don't need to be afraid."

The word put another scowl on his face, and he muttered something before letting her go.

"I'm not afraid."

"I see."

And the pyromancer left his room, going downstairs to make some tea. She was sure breakfast was over, so everyone would be outside or in their rooms.

She got downstairs and headed for the kitchen, finding Miss Peregrine standing in front of the sink with an unhappy look. Olive took the tea kettle and started gathering some ingredients to make her tea, but the Bird's voice interrupted her thinking.

"Ms. Elephanta, you took way too long."

"I'm sorry, Miss Peregrine. Enoch is not feeling very well this morning."

The woman raised an eyebrow with suspicion, smoking on her pipe as if analyzing what the girl had just said.

"I see. What is he feeling?"

The red-haired girl filled the kettle with water and started putting the ingredients, a bit upset with the Bird's curiosity.

"I assume it's a cold. He won't tell me."

"Hmm… Then I assume my presence will not be needed?"

"Probably not, Miss Peregrine."

She sighed as the discussion seemed to be over, her bare hands warming up the tea kettle. Then, the pyromancer placed a small cup and put some of the tea in it. She wore her gloves again and started to walk away with the cup of tea.

"Not so fast, Ms. Elephanta."

She froze. Turning around never seemed to be so difficult.

"He might want to eat something, too."

The Bird placed a plate with a thin loaf of bread on it, and Olive picked it up, relieved.

"Thank you, Miss Peregrine."

And she hurried upstairs, wanting to get into her friend's room as fast as possible. The door was open, so the red headed girl simply walked in and put the plate on Enoch's workspace, which wasn't so far from his bed. Holding the tea, she approached his bed and sat on the chair in front of it.

"Can you try sitting? I brought some tea."

She heard Enoch mumble something under the covers. He had buried himself under them. Then, he sat up slowly, not moving his legs, his sickly face frowning.

"You took long."

"If I wanted, my peculiarity would be replacing water with tea."

Olive handed him the cup carefully, afraid his shaky hands would drop it. That didn't happen, thankfully. The necromancer took a sip, then gave the cup back to his friend.

"Way better now."

The pyromancer smiled in relief, putting the cup on his workspace and sitting down again.

"Great, Enoch. Can you stand up?"

"No."

"Is it because you really can't or because you don't want to?"

"No."

The red headed girl laughed a little, watching Enoch bury himself in the bed sheets again.

"Don't laugh at me."

She slowly removed some of the bed sheets, revealing a grumpy and sickly face peeking at her.

"There's bread, too, if you're hungry."

"I'm not."

"You won't get any better if you just hide yourself, Enoch."

Enoch sighed deeply at Olive, shoving the bed sheets to the edges of his bed, most of his body revealed. Didn't he have pajamas?

"Do you really sleep with that sweater?"

He sighed deeply, his frown becoming a scowl.

"What do you want me to do, sleep without clothes on?"

Her face matched her hair for an instant.

"Are you sure you're not sick?"

"Shut it, Enoch!"

o o o o

Acknowledging it was going to be a long day, Olive brought some things to Enoch's room, placing them beside the chair. The boy glared at her, growing suspicious.

"What's all that?"

The pyromancer put some kind of warm handkerchief on his forehead, noting that his skin was definitely colder than a corpse.

"Some things to help you recover."

"Are you telling me you're going to stay here?"

"Probably."

The red headed girl walked to the small, dusty window Enoch had in his room, looking outside.

"Emma has Jake to help her with the squirrels, anyway."

The necromancer replied with a grunt, unhappy with the mention of the 'new blood', not moving an inch. She stopped looking through the window and sat down in front of his bed, staring back at the moody individual.

"I haven't talked to him for a while. Maybe I should."

"Stop it."

Olive giggled, pulling out something from the small pile of stuff she had brought from her room. It was another, smaller handkerchief. She touched her friend's face with it, removing the excessive sweat.

"I'm not a child, Olive."

"That's not what Miss Peregrine believes in."

"I don't care for her beliefs."

The pyromancer smiled, knowing he hadn't changed one bit.

"You don't care about anything, Enoch."

That seemed to shut him up again. Her eyes traveled through his body, noticing how dirty his clothes were.

"Are you sure you don't want to change your clothes?"

"Why, do you want to do that for me?"

Again, her face matched her hair for some instants.

"And again, are you sure you're not sick?"

"Shut it, Enoch!"

She could almost hear him chuckling.

That was going to be a long day.

o o o o

"Are you really going to skip your meals because I'm sick?"

Olive nodded, cleaning his face with her handkerchief. The boy hadn't moved for hours, and the girl hadn't showed up for any of the meals. It was lunch time, and she was refusing to leave.

"I'm not going to die if you go eat, okay?"

"I'm not hungry at all."

Her stomach growled, betraying her.

"Your health is more important right now. You do look like you're going to die, Enoch."

The necromancer sighed, turning to the other side, as if trying to sleep.

"Are you sleepy?"

"No."

"I can leave if you want me to."

The boy didn't respond. Olive smiled, patting Enoch's back softly. Despite his desperate attempts to show her he didn't care about her presence, he didn't want her to leave.

"How many fingers can you see?"

"I can see my middle one at you."

The red-haired girl rolled her eyes, sure he wouldn't simply do as she said.

"Be honest, Enoch."

He sighed, turning to look at her open hand.

"…Five."

She smiled at him, her gloved fingers running through his messy hair. Instead of shoving her away and saying some rude sentence, her friend closed his eyes, discretely enjoying it.

"I guess we need to comb it. It's so messy."

His eyes shot open.

"Don't even think about it."

Minutes later, he saw himself lying with his eyes closed, a happy Olive combing each strand carefully, sitting on the edge of the bed despite his many attempts to make her leave.

o o o o

"You've skipped two meals and the daily walk."

"You don't look like you can be by yourself, Enoch. Also, I wouldn't have anyone to argue with during the daily walk."

Enoch raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, knowing she wasn't as close to the other peculiars as she was to him. And he felt happy.

"…Unless you want me to go and chat with Jake, or Millard."

He didn't take Millard as a threat, but Jake was another story, even if he seemed to be closer to Emma. The necromancer fell silent, defeated again. Olive smiled and handed the boy his cup of tea, touching it with her bare hand to heat it up. After all, he hadn't touched it again since early morning.

"Old, but still good" Enoch said after taking a sip. Because both of them hadn't eaten the whole day, they ended up sharing the loaf of bread Miss Peregrine had given them. The pyromancer insisted she'd be fine, but her friend insisted. She mentally thanked him for insisting, because she felt way better after eating something.

Minutes and minutes of silence passed, Olive still cleaning Enoch's face with the now moistened handkerchief. He still hadn't moved from the waist down. The red-haired girl was afraid something had happened to that part.

"Olive."

The necromancer called her in a whisper, making her a bit jumpy. He didn't call her by her name as often as she called him by his name.

"Yes, Enoch?"

"Why do you even care?"

The question made her feel empty. Her eyes widened, getting flashbacks from the nightmare, but she quickly fake smiled and her face came back to normal, trying to show him she was okay.

"Because you're my friend, Enoch."

The boy stared at her, growing suspicious.

"You don't look okay."

Olive sighed, knowing she'd have to tell him about the nightmare eventually. She just wanted to get it over with.

"…I had a nightmare."

Her friend's eyes widened, but he quickly pretended that it wasn't a surprise.

"Tell me about it."

The pyromancer turned her head away, one gloved hand on the bed, not wanting to open up.

"Olive. Tell me."

His hand touched hers, bringing her attention. Enoch stared at her, his eyebrows not showing anger, but pain. Worry or sadness, whatever you want to call it. For the first time, he insisted in listening to what she had to say.

The red headed girl sighed deeply, looking at him, knowing it wouldn't do her any better to simply hide it from him.

"There was fire everywhere… I couldn't see anything else but fire, I was surrounded…"

Olive lowered her gaze, her hand a bit shaky.

"And then… I saw _you_."

She paused for a moment, blinking too many times. The pyromancer turned her head away, not wanting her friend to see her face. Her eyes looked like they were about to melt with warm tears.

"You glared at me and left. In a sudden, you disappeared. _You left me._ "

There were almost some instants of silence, if it wasn't for Olive's attempts to not sob. In the end, she couldn't stop it. She sobbed softly, removing her gloves to try evaporating the water that fell from her eyes.

Enoch, on the other hand, was clueless. He'd never seen Olive cry – and he definitely wasn't the best at comforting. He never tried, actually.

"Olive."

His soft, yet serious voice made her look at him, as if she'd completely forgotten her face was a mess. The necromancer was surprised, but remained serious. He sat up and patted her shoulder, hoping it'd help a little.

"I'm here, and I'm not leaving."

He couldn't think of anything else to say, given the fact he'd never cheered up anyone. It was a new experience for him, and one Enoch didn't want to go through. That seemed to calm the pyromancer, though. She took a deep breath and smiled at him, her face slowly going back to normal.

"I'm sorry. You're the sick one and I'm here, needing help."

Enoch seemed to be about to say something, but didn't. He looked away uncomfortably, trying to suggest a change of subject. The red-haired girl got the hint and cleared her throat, now a bit more stable.

"Are you sleepy?" Olive asked, smiling a little.

"Yes."

He lied.

The pyromancer pulled out something from the pile of things she'd brought from her room. It seemed to be a book, a very old one.

"I shall read you a story, then."

The necromancer sighed, lying down again.

"Stop treating me like a child."

She giggled, opening the book.

"Once upon a time…"

"There's no title?"

The red headed girl raised an eyebrow at him, then went back to the first page.

"The Princess and The Dragon" Olive read slowly, smiling at him. "Once upon a time, there was a princess who was very sad."

"Why?" Enoch asked, frowning.

"Because she had no prince," the pyromancer explained. "She had red hair and…"

The moment she said that, the necromancer stared at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Fiction, little Enoch, fiction."

That was enough to shut him up. The red headed girl cleared her throat to continue.

"And there was a dragon who wanted to destroy her castle, because she was very rich and the dragon was very poor."

"Wouldn't she give the dragon some of her gold?"

"No, because she was a selfish princess. That's why no one liked her," Olive grinned. "And we're getting to the end."

The boy stiffened, paying extra attention to the story.

"The dragon killed her and destroyed her castle, and everyone died. The end."

The pyromancer closed the book, putting it beside her chair.

"Did you like the story?"

"Stop treating me like a child."

Olive chuckled, stroking his hair and standing up.

"It's time to sleep…"

"I had a nightmare too."

The words seemed to sting her, as she stopped in front of the door, frozen.

"Everything I brought back from the dead started to chase me through the woods. It was very dark, and I was surrounded by them."

Olive sat down, wanting to listen to it. Was that the reason he looked so sick?

"And then, I saw you. You glared at me and walked away. You just… Left me."

Everything seemed to make sense to her at that moment. Why he didn't want her to leave, his tight grip on her hand, his hesitation. In the end, it wasn't only her who had a terrible night.

In the end, he was suffering one wall away from her, just like she was.

"…I should stay, then."

The pyromancer smiled at him, instantly letting Enoch at ease, determined to stay in front of his bed as long as it was necessary.

"Thank you," he muttered, closing his eyes.

In that moment, all the sleepless nights both had seemed to hit them. It was a matter of seconds before they were unconscious.

o o o o

After some time, probably after dinner, Enoch woke up, feeling way better than he was hours before. He turned to see his room, and saw Olive sitting on the chair, asleep, probably uncomfortable in the position she was in.

The necromancer sighed. She needed some rest too.

He tried standing up, his legs shaky and in pain because of inactivity after so many hours. The boy tried getting used to it, a frown on his face. He assumed it was sunset, since the room wasn't completely dark and there were no lights on. Enoch carefully put one arm around Olive's waist and another under her knees, trying to carry her. He couldn't let her sleep like that, not when her previous night had been as terrible as his.

He walked out of his room, and – thank the Ymbrynes – not one peculiar was on the hallway. Maybe it was already their time to sleep – he couldn't check the time.

The door to her room was open, and he slowly came in, placing the red-haired girl's motionless body on her small bed. Enoch sighed in relief, as his job was done. Or at least he thought.

Something was bothering him, something was missing.

He knelt in front of her bed and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, not brushing her bangs away.

"Good night, Olive."

Both of them were sure they wouldn't have nightmares in the following nights.


End file.
